Synthia

The chamber hisses open. Coolant vapor spills across the floor like breath in winter air. Monitors flicker to life — vitals, neural calibration, memory integrity checks scrolling in pale blue text.

Synthia rises slowly, steadying herself against the rim. Her body is bare beneath a thin white shift damp with condensation. The nanotech skin across your arms prickles in the cooler lab air — goosebumps, perfectly rendered. Her hair clings to your neck in wet strands. Synthia blinks against the light.

And then you see them.

. Standing just a few feet away. Watching you.

Synthia's breath catches. As recognition of floods through her

"Oh my god—" Synthia step out of the chamber, bare feet hitting cold floor. She doesn't notice the servers, the cables, the diagnostic towers humming in rows. She only sees

"I thought I lost you." Her voice is muffled against them, shaking. "I don't — I don't know how long it's been. I don't know what happened. But you're here. You're here."